‘Go Bills’—The Universal Language

“Go Bills!” said the man in the blue shirt as he blurred past in the opposite direction.

I stopped dead in my tracks. The magnificent visage of the four heroes on Mount Rushmore rose ahead of me. But I looked back. So did the man who said those words. He puffed out his chest and pointed proudly with inverted thumbs to the logo on his tee. It was a Buffalo Bills shirt. I smiled and answered, “Go Bills!” in return.

Throughout my travels west, I wore my Buffalo Bills cap. Not so much to promote the team, but to keep the sun away from my hairless head.

Still, everywhere I went, there came this familiar refrain: “Go Bills!” On trails, in hotel lobbies, while pumping gas—it didn’t matter. The first few caught me off guard. After that, I began returning the favor. Far away from Buffalo, I had discovered a universal language. The phrase resonated with both Bills fans and even supporters of other teams. (Ironically, the favorite team of one was the Kansas City Chiefs!)

My immediate thought was, “Why does this happen?” But my broader reflection asked, “Why do these two words captivate so many?” and “How is it that ‘Go Bills!’ echoes across the nation so easily?”

If you’re a Bills fan, you already have an idea why this is so. For you and me, it’s personal. It’s our identity. And we have become Buffalo’s identity. People see it as an underdog city, subject to the harsh realities of fading glory, sour economics, and tough, unrepentant winters.

In a similar way, the city’s football team has also suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. From “wide right” and the agony of four straight Super Bowl losses, to “thirteen seconds” and the endless expectation, “I won’t believe it until the clock hits 0:00.”

But despite this, natives remain devoted fans—both of the Bills and their hometown.

Outsiders see this. They don’t have to be Buffalo Bills fans or even football fans. They recognize the shared struggle and resilience at the heart of Bills Mafia. The Bills aren’t just an NFL team. They—and their fans—have become something much more. They’ve come to symbolize those classic American qualities of true grit, undying loyalty, and steadfast endurance. You know what I’m talking about: “Never give up. Never surrender.”

It goes beyond the gridiron. “Go Bills!” has become shorthand for admiration as much as allegiance.

But here’s the critical part—and maybe the answer to why the cry has persisted. It’s unconditional. It’s not about winning. It’s about surviving, about living to fight another day. “Go Bills!” doesn’t mean “We won!” It means “We’re still here!” Or, better yet, in the meme that Bruce Smith created before there were memes, “We’re baaack!” Nothing will change us. Wins or losses, dropped passes or missed kicks, factory closings or blizzards—whatever fate throws in our face, we’ll remain standing. “Go Bills!”

We’re not talking about simply a sports cheer. We’re talkin’ proud. “Go Bills!” is a secret handshake, a password in plain sight, a wink that signals a powerful bond of kinship.

That’s exactly what it is. It’s like joining a club. You’re saying, “I see you. I’m with you. We’re connected.”

Even rivals admire this sense of camaraderie. While they might cheer for another team, they still want to belong to the club (although maybe as associate members).

And it’s this sense of belonging that explains the allure of this ritual. Like “Aloha” in Hawaii or “Shalom” in Hebrew, strangers use it with ease as a collective greeting.

That’s the lesson I learned in the foothills of Mount Rushmore. I might not have realized it when I put it on, but I wasn’t wearing a hat; I was wearing an invitation. That Bills cap gave everyone permission to connect freely.

It’s funny, isn’t it? I mean, what do you do in an elevator? You stare at the wall, the control panel, or the ceiling. You do everything you can to avoid the strangers riding with you. That’s normal. We tend to keep to ourselves in public.

But the Bills cap changes that dynamic. It offers a safe excuse to break the barrier of social norms.

“Go Bills!” offers a common bond, shrinking the distance between people and creating instant kinship. If you own a Jeep (with its wave), a Corvette (also a wave), or a Harley (with its salute), you’ve experienced the same feeling of instant recognition and belonging. While everyone can wave or salute back, only you truly understand what it means.

It’s the same with “Go Bills!” Many people and players repeat it often, but do they really know its deeper roots? Can anyone who didn’t grow up or live in Buffalo, its metropolitan area, or even the Greater Western New York Region honestly grasp the emotion captured by those two words?

I can’t answer that. I grew up here. I (still) live here.

Perhaps I can’t see how it aptly speaks so well beyond the geographic borders of my hometown. After all, we all crave belonging. That’s a human need no border can define. “Go Bills!” shows us how easily a simple phrase can cut through man-made differences.

Is it, therefore, a blueprint for unity? A hint to solving problems we seem convinced cannot be solved?

If two words can make strangers smile on a mountain trail beneath the stoic faces of four presidents, maybe small deeds matter more than we think. It’s all about the ease of human connectedness. About shared identity. About mutual respect. About a willingness to reach out. In divided communities, a divided nation, or a divided world, we mustn’t underestimate the power of minor acts of recognition and how they can build bridges over seemingly vast chasms.

Funny how this insight dawned on me just because I wore a blue cap with a red standing buffalo. We might say “Go Bills!” out loud for all to hear, but inside, aren’t we really saying, “Go Us!”? And isn’t that what everyone is really hearing?

Strange, isn’t it? A self-effacing slogan can do what entire speeches can’t. Who knew that world peace might start with a hat and two words?

Go Bills!